


the most human colour

by shirogains



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Courting, Alternate Universe, Cultural Differences, Humor, M/M, Slice of Life, Strangers to Lovers, a wily German Shepherd named Nala, altean!lance, mechanic!Shiro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 20:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12992328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirogains/pseuds/shirogains
Summary: When he turns his eyes on Shiro, they’re a shocking, unearthly blue, luminescent even in the dark. Then he smiles, broad and beatific, maybe even a little impish.“Hello,” he says, effortlessly stepping out of the crater he’d been standing in despite the steep embankment.Shiro, who had been about to offer him a hand up (and with his prosthetic, no less), stares at him blankly. “I… Hello?”After an unsuccessful assassination attempt, the unorthodox Altean prince Lance is sent to Earth stripped of his titles, responsibilities, and all bearings of his status. There he finds the adjustment to foreign life easier than he does the transition from prince to everyday citizen. Far from home and familiarity, Lance carves out a new life for himself while he waits for political climate on Altea to settle so he can return, but he gets more than he bargained for when a local mechanic digs a little too deep into his past.





	the most human colour

**Author's Note:**

> this was a piece for the aphelion zine before RL circumstances forced me to drop out but i figured i'd pick it up again because i wanted to explore the idea! 
> 
> the rating/tags may change as the fic progresses.

Allura paces the length of the room, a hand at her temple. Back and forth, back and forth, until Lance feels dizzy and he has to force himself to look away.

He dusts the sweat from his temple, waiting impatiently for her to calm down or for her to exhaust herself, whichever comes first. But either she has limitless stamina or she's truly that agitated because it's ten dobashes before she comes to a halt at last, her brows furrowed and her mouth pinched tightly in a frown.

It’s a look more severe than Lance has seen on Allura since he set her mice free in the kitchens and let them feast freely until they resembled virtual blobs.

"Lance," she urges, "how can you be so calm?"

Lance blinks. "How can you be so frenzied? Isn't that so exhausting?"

Allura stares at him uncomprehendingly. "Have you gone into shock?"

"Not that I know of,” Lance says, checking his pulse quickly to confirm. “You're really making it out to be a bigger deal than it was, Allura. I'm fine, and so are you. Nobody was hurt."

Allura strides across the floor of the throne room to grasp him by the shoulders. Her grip is preternaturally strong, fingers digging into his skin through his ceremonial garb, and he winces.

“Someone just tried to kill you,” she reiterates for the third time since it happened, shaking him. “Did you hit your head when you fell, by any chance?"

"I was pushed violently," Lance protests fervently. "I didn't fall. That’s a flagrant exaggeration and I completely resent it. You’re this close to assassinating my character with that insinuation, Allura, and that’s more upsetting than the idea of being dead."

“That is not funny.”

"It looked like falling to me," Coran interjects, drumming his fingers on folded arms. "Falling with style, Prince, but falling all the same."

Lance bristles at him. "Nobody asked you!”

"I am your advisor," Coran states. "To advise you of my opinion is my job, with all due respect."

“You’re my advisor, so dispense advice when asked.”

Allura gives Lance another gentle shake. "Do not avoid the point, Lance. You were almost killed."

"Barely a scratch!” Lance argues, squirming doggedly in her grip. “You're overreacting. I can't believe we're still talking about this. He wasn't even carrying a real weapon."

"He wasn't carrying anything that you could see," Allura corrects, releasing him. "You don't know what might have happened if Coran hadn't intercepted him before he could do anything else to you. There's absolutely no way you can say for certain!"

"Allura," Coran says, sounding a bit on edge himself. Allura's distress is apparently contagious. "Please, try to calm down."

Lance says a silent prayer of thanks that everyone else left the room when they were ordered out, leaving the three of them alone.

"Easier said than done, and you know it." Her eyes are bloodshot, a clear indicator that she's close to tears. "Someone made an attempt on his life. I cannot just sit idly by while there may be a plot underway to kill members of the royal family, Coran. What kind of leader would that make me?"

"Can I go now?" Lance asks, stifling a sigh. "We've been here for what feels like three vargas. I'm tired of listening to what ifs and maybes. It's enough for me that we're all unharmed, why isn't that enough for you?"

"It's not your job to protect you," Allura snaps. “It is not enough that you are simply unscathed. Somebody tried to kill you and I’m sorry that _you_ don’t seem to think that’s a problem."

Few would dare raise their voice to him, and Lance is so unaccustomed to it that he shrinks back in his seat with a nervous laugh.

"Maybe so," he agrees. "But he was taken care of, and now he’ll rot in prison for the rest of his days. Like I said, I'm in perfect health and I’m not too bothered. You need to relax, Allura. Take a vacation, have a long bath… because that’s what I plan on doing." He rises and dismisses them both with a flick of his fingers. "I'm leaving. I'll be in my quarters if you need me. I don't expect to be disturbed unless it's of _utmost_ importance and otherwise unavoidable. Is that clear?"

Allura barely acknowledges him as he sweeps out of the room.

“Yes, Prince.” Coran bows hastily when Lance passes, and he pats Coran on the shoulder sympathetically.

Allura in this kind of mood is a storm that can't be avoided, and one that he plans to be well out of the way during. Lance supposes he might be concerned too if he were tasked with keeping himself safe and an assassin broke through their ranks. But there are more pressing matters on his mind, like the issue of what he's having for dinner.

Threats on his life work up quite the appetite.

* * *

“He absolutely cannot stay here.”

“That’s a hasty decision,” Coran says, trying to reason with her. “Wouldn’t it be more prudent for him to stay, to make an example of the assassin? Send a message that the Prince, and the royal family by extension, will not be intimidated by such attempts on his life? If you send him away, there is no telling what the political climate will look like on his return, and—”

“There is a place,” Allura cuts in. “A planet called Earth. I have researched it extensively.”

Coran studies the map that she pulls up on the control room’s outward-facing window with a flick of her fingers. “That’s on the other side of the solar system. It would take him a month to get there, even in one of our fastest ships.”

Allura stares out into space, her fingers combing through the end of her braid.

“I think Earth is somewhere that Lance would be safe until such time as we can bring him home,” she says resolutely. “There is too much unrest in the people for him to remain on Altea, Coran. The king’s death has put everyone in an unprecedented position, most of all Lance. Frankly, it is dangerous for him here. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Coran snorts. “Whether or not I agree does not matter in the scheme of decision-making.”

Allura summons a smile. “No, it does not. I am not the Prince, so I will listen to your advice but that does not necessarily mean I will take it.”

“You can overrule us both on this one,” Coran admits. “But you will have to be the one to break it to him.”

“But you will help me convince him it’s the right thing to do?”

Coran nods. “For the sake of his safety, of course.”

“Good,” Allura says, relieved. “Because he is not going to go quietly...”

* * *

“This is an outrage,” Lance exclaims. “I told you that unless it was an emergency—”

“This is unavoidable,” Allura says, her voice as steely as her expression.

It’s the Mien of Tough Love as Coran once so eloquently put it. Mostly it makes Lance’s blood boil, because this is the way Allura looks and sounds when she’s about to tell him something he _must_ do. His input rarely matters in such situations, and he would be shocked if he were ever consulted in decisions being made regarding him. He’s come to understand that as the way of life for a prince of the crown, but that doesn’t mean he has to like being dictated to.

He can’t bite his tongue on this. “What is so pressing that you felt the need to barge in on my bath?”

“You need to leave Altea.”

A moment of silence as it registers.

Then a hysterical laugh bubbles out. “What? When did you become a comedian, Allura? It doesn’t suit you.”

“I am not joking.” Allura’s face has taken on solemnity now. Behind her, even Coran appears uncharacteristically subdued, his frown deep with concern. “You must leave as soon as possible. Tonight.”

Lance sits up abruptly, spilling water over the edges of the tub. “Have you lost your mind?! Tonight was a minor hiccup. It’s part of ruling. People will eventually try to murder me and the sooner you accept that fact, the better you’ll sleep at night.”

“You call nearly dying a minor hiccup?” Allura asks, aghast.

“Make no mistake,” Coran pipes up, “that assassin would have put your head on a spike given half the chance, Prince.”

“This is my home,” Lance protests, sinking back into the water. “I’m not leaving. What a preposterous idea. This is what I pay both of you for, really? To make terrible decisions on my behalf?”

Allura rolls her eyes and holds out a hand for a towel, which Coran promptly retrieves. “You are naïve in the ways of the universe yet, Prince, if you think that endangering your life by remaining here is a sensible choice. Now get out of the bath. We have much to discuss and figure out before you depart.”

Lance’s head is still reeling as Allura bends down, curls a hand under his arm and forcibly drags him out. She folds the towel around his shoulders and directs him to the bedroom, where he drops onto a seat at the vanity in stunned silence.

“It will not be forever,” she promises, crouching in front of him. “It will only be temporarily while we smooth things out on Altea, I promise you.”

Lance burrows his face into the soft fabric. He shivers, and not just from the water clinging to his skin. “Where are you sending me?”

“Earth,” Coran informs him, sitting on the bed.

Puzzled, Lance raises an eyebrow. “How far is it? Is it inhabited, civilised?”

Allura reassures him by clasping his hand between hers. “Of course. Earthlings are not as peaceful or as advanced a race as Alteans, but you can blend in there with some effort. I do not think they are aware of life outside their planet. They would refer to us as,” she pauses, and looks at Coran for guidance, “outsiders?”

“Aliens,” Coran says, twirling the end of his moustache in deep thought. “You must try not to draw undue attention to yourself there, Lance.”

“That will be hard for you.” Allura strokes the back of Lance’s hand with a thumb, imploring him with the gravity of her gaze. “You must tone it down or they will notice something is amiss. They are a species naturally prone to curiosity and suspiciousness, and sometimes even judgment.”

Absently, Lance rubs at his damp hair with the corner of the towel. “And how am I going to know what to do once I get there? Where will I go?”

“You’ll have to make your own way,” Allura says with a grave smile. “Make it up as you go. You’ll have supplies from Altea, too. Our technology will help you immensely.”

“What about these?” Lance asks, touching one of his cheek markings. “They’re not exactly easy to hide.”

“We can give you skin-coloured cream. It should help you look more…”

“Ordinary?” Coran suggests. “Plain? Basic?”

“I get the idea,” Lance grouses.

“Earthlings’ hair gets greyer as they get older,” Allura says wryly, running her fingers through the bone-white hair that curls under Lance’s ear. “And Lance looks like a young human adult despite being two thousand years old… But it does not matter. For all intents and purposes, he will look human enough. They have been known to colour their hair odd shades, so it is not entirely peculiar.”

“Listen…” With a heavy sigh, Lance looks between them. “Do I really have to…”

“Lance,” Allura says firmly, tilting his chin back to her when his eyes slide away from hers. “We are doing this to protect you, and we will bring you home. You have my word.”

* * *

The last streaks of sunset are fading on the far horizon when Shiro sees it.

A blinding light radiates across the desert, and he feels the impact on the trembling earth in its aftershocks, rocking his stationary truck. His German Shepherd, who had been fast-asleep and tethered to the tray, is shaken awake with the jolt. She raises her head, ears pricked and her soft, brown eyes alert.

“Easy, Nala,” Shiro mutters, tossing down a wrench and straightening from where he’d been bending over the exposed engine of his truck. The light was so fleeting that he half-wonders if he imagined it. “What was that?”

She lets out a low warning growl, and cocks her head when he murmurs soothingly to her, fondling her between the ears. She licks his wrist, then her muzzle with a quiet whine.

He shrugs and packs his tools away, then closes the truck’s hood. Nala continues to stare out toward the desert, unwaveringly fixated on a certain place. When Shiro goes to fasten his toolkit to the back of the truck, she shifts sideways hastily to peer around his body when it blocks her view.

“It’s bothering you too, huh?” he asks, untying her. “Let’s go look.” She jumps down from tray and bounds into the cab when he opens the door for her, settling on the passenger seat with a wag of her tail.

The twenty-minute drive over on the gravelly backroads is jarring, but Shiro hardly notices anymore. He’s lived out here for most of his life, and the roads are either flooded, boggy, and near-unusable in monsoon season or dry, dusty, and juddering in the summer. There’s never an in-between.

He hasn’t stopped the truck before Nala launches herself through the rolled-down window, barking frantically. He swears under his breath and throws the truck into park, rifling through the glovebox for a pocket torch before he goes in search of her.

“Nala!” he calls, heading in the direction he saw her bolt off in. He whistles but she ignores him, and her incessant barking draws him to a cluster of rocks. He swings the torch in that direction and her shape is illuminated in the dark, her stance defensive and hackles up, every bark increasingly louder.

He stifles a sigh and walks over, intending to grab her by the collar and drag her back to the truck if need be. But a hushed cough and Nala’s barking dropping to a growl stops him in his tracks. Curious, he redirects the torch and nearly drops it in alarm.

A man with a stark head of white hair is rising to his feet, brushing the dust from his ankle-length blue robe; there’s a black sash wrapped around his waist, and a gold band around his neck matches the circlet on his forehead, inlaid with a gleaming purple stone.

When he turns his eyes on Shiro, they’re a shocking, unearthly blue, luminescent even in the dark. Then he smiles, broad and beatific, maybe even a little impish.

“Hello,” he says, effortlessly stepping out of the crater he’d been standing in despite the steep embankment.

Shiro, who had been about to offer him a hand up (and with his prosthetic, no less), stares at him blankly. “I… Hello?”

“ _Nala_ ,” he says sharply when she ducks her head and creeps a few steps closer to sniff at the man’s feet.

“I’m Lance,” the man prompts, carefully adjusting one of the straps on his shoulder. He peers down at Nala, who retreated at Shiro’s scolding but sniffs the air warily with her head held low. “And you are?”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! :>
> 
> tumblr: [shirogains](http://shirogains.tumblr.com/)  
> twitter: [shirogains](https://twitter.com/shirogains)
> 
> feedback is appreciated ♡


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